


Shh

by SandyQuinn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:12:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandyQuinn/pseuds/SandyQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shut up, Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shh

Through a haze of light sleep Sebastian kept hearing the shouting, and he wondered how long the shouter could shout with no tongue, but alas, this was Jim, the only person in the world whose tongue would remain untouched.

Sebastian had a love/hate relationship with spring, mostly because it was a season for booming business: When the fiery emotions of the summer had had time to cool down during autumn and winter and hatch into a plot to kill someone, and Jim’s business spiked up, the only other such occasion Christmas time. It meant more work for Sebastian as well, and he liked working, but unfortunately for him Jim’s idea of conducting business was to hiss, shout, snarl and purr at his customers and his employers alike, at all hours of the day.

It tended to cut into Sebastian’s sleep, and although he was well-accustomed to adjust, it was getting beyond that. He leaned back, head on the pillow, and listened in.

“-pepperoni, andAREYOULISTENING? If the cheese is cold I will- “ the voice turned chirpy “-I will- yes, I will remove your nails with red-hot knives, one. By. One. Get it? Hot knives, cold cheese- Oh love, stop sniveling and write down my order, will you? Daddy’s hungry.”

Sebastian got up with a grunt, wearing only a singlet and his trousers to bed. His dog-tags were gone, around Jim’s neck, one of the few careful gestures they’d made towards each other. Jim turned to look at Sebastian when he entered the other room, and Sebastian could tell with a glance the man had been up too long, again. It happened often, more than usual, these days. At least he was ordering food, which Sebastian took as a good sign.

“Coca leaves!” Jim hissed at him gleefully.

Or not.

“Get me a note-pad,” Jim gestured, pressing the phone against his shoulder, “I want to- I want to make a chart and put it in with the money when he comes, a chart that shows all the ways I can ruin his pathetic little life- “   
  
Sebastian picked up his cigarettes, pulling out one and tucking it behind his ear.

“Shh,” he shushed, mildly, calmly.

“WHAT was that-” Jim lowered the phone again, looking at Sebastian. “What?”

Sebastian looked at Jim calmly, evenly, and then moved to approach, a slow sauntering walk, a tiger approaching an easy prey.

“Shh,” he said quietly.

Jim looked torn between amusement and annoyance- really, between finding it funny and breaking Sebastian’s nose- not lifting the phone where the unfortunate pizza-boy was muffledly asking for directions.

“Sebastian-”

“Shh,” Sebastian said, reaching out, his eyes never leaving Jim’s, not even for a second, like a man hypnotizing a poisonous snake. He turned off the phone, putting it away slowly.

“He was asking-”   
“Shh. Did you give him an address?” Sebastian murmured.

“Yes,” Jim blinked, looking oddly unable to tear his eyes away from Sebastian’s.

“Then let him guess. If he’s late, we’ll get on the roof and have a target practise.”   
Jim let out a sharp, delighted burst of laughter, only to be silenced by Sebastian’s rough, calloused hand pressing palm-first against the corner of his jaw, thumb brushing his lips lightly, immediately greased by cherry-flavoured lip balm. 

“Shhh,” Sebastian hushed, soft and quiet, stepping into Jim’s personal space, his calm colliding with the spastic energy that was Jim.

It won, just this once.

The room was filled with busy silence.  


End file.
